


coming home

by supersalamander



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Reunion, im gay and i wanted to write something gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 23:56:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20434613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersalamander/pseuds/supersalamander
Summary: vriska is tired of this place





	coming home

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to the troll girls discord for prompts! love yall

you can’t stay here much longer. you have to run away, have to get out of here. you’re sick and tired of the monotony and the people and the way it never felt like you belonged. your name is vriska serket, and though it was twenty-six years ago you were put on this strange world, it is only today you will finally go home.  
you throw a few things in a bag (only the essentials: your favorite flannel, a magic 8 ball, and a two liter of cherry coke for the road) and climb into your truck. people tell you its old and rusty and not so good, but they just can’t accept a perfectly good pickup when they see one. anyway, the flames you painted on the side are pretty cool.  
the dial says you need gas. you don’t stop to get gas.  
it takes about eight hours of driving in total silence (the truck radio went out long ago) until you are pulling up at an apartment building. if you were anyone else, you would be nervous about this, but you’re not. you’re vriska serket. you haven’t seen her in ages, since she went out east to take a job offer. the two of you had a fight that day, one that left both of you hurt. you wondered how she even got hired as a prosecutor given what the two of you had gotten up to in the old days. you guessed no one cared on this burned out planet. “new earth,” they called it, because the first settlers had been humans fleeing from the war and destruction on a planet called old earth. the trolls had come just years after that, when their home’s brutal sun finally gave out.  
you’re not here for history. you’re here to see her. this is not a mistake. you knock on the door to her apartment and hope luck is on your side today.  
and then she’s standing in front of you. she looks just like she did when she left, maybe a bit more tired, but the same dark grey skin and short black hair that sticks out everywhere and shiny red glasses and sharp horns. terezi pyrope. she’s pretty, you think. you both stare at each other for a long moment, before she asks, breaking the silence, “what the fuck are you doing here?”  
you are instantly brought back to the day she left. it’s stuck perfectly in your memory. “i have a prosecutor job offer in another city, and i think i am going to take it,” she says through a mouthful of greasy pizza (pineapple and pepperoni, dunked in ranch).  
“but we’re doing fine here,” you reply.  
“well, we could do well out there,” she offers.  
“i am not going there!” you say, too loud.  
“well i guess i’m going to have to leave this city by myself.”  
“just don’t take the stupid job!” you can’t believe she would even think about going without you.  
“stupid? my dream job is fucking stupid?”  
you pause. you can’t go back on what you said now. that’s not how this works.  
the fight goes on, but you’d prefer not to think about it. you’re both upset. when she moves away, you don’t talk again. you’re lonely after that. there’s no one to talk to at night, no one to smuggle toothpaste and jolly ranchers out of walmart with. you stagnate.  
you blink. she’s still there, right in front of you. “i, um,” you stumble over the words. you’re not sure of what to say. you’ve never planned your words ahead before, and you’re not going to start now.  
“i missed you,” you finally blurt. “i never really felt right without you.”  
you’re crying now. you’re not sure why.  
she looks like she’s holding back her own tears as she says, “i missed you too.”  
she steps forward and hugs you, tightly. you can feel her breathing. you’ve missed this warmth.  
“i love you,” she whispers into your shoulder.  
“i love you, too,” you say back. she lets go, and the two of you step inside. finally, you’re home. you don’t intend to leave this time.


End file.
